Forget Me Not, My Love
by MissMeep
Summary: A boy and a girl on a rooftop. Drabble-fic. Mild YukimuraOC.


Italics for speech

Bold for emphasis

Did I miss anything? Mild YukimuraOC. I don't own Prince of Tennis. Special thank you to **TayMor **for being super-awesome and helpful! Reviews are appreciated!

* * *

_Come on up here. It's safe, don't worry... _the boy smiled encouragingly. _I promise you, the roof will _**_not _**_break with a little extra weight._

_Safe? _she asked. _I doubt it. Even if it's where you sneak away during French, it doesn't mean it's safe._

_It's not sneaking away if I ask the teacher's permission to step out for a while, _he answered.

_We're not even supposed to be on the roof, it's under construction, _she protested.

_It's the opposite side of the roof, _he reassured her. _Aren't you with me in the Beautification Committee? We already brought this up, you know. The garden's on the roof. Therefore the roof is not off limits as you would like it to be._

_But still... Look, there's that _**_Caution_**_ sign on the door, _she argued, pointing at a sign.

_But look, there's the rooftop garden. What's the point of putting a garden up here if people don't visit? _he teased. The boy walked into a myriad of flowers (blending in with them, **belonging** with them), as he walked past them.

_Well... _She hesitated, following (following, always following, but never catching up).

_Thought so, _he smiled triumphantly.

_You, are _**_unbelievable_**_, you know that? _she glared at him.

_And you're just so _**_adorable_**_ when you glare at me like that, _he countered cheerfully.

_I can't take that as a compliment from someone who thinks _**_Kirihara _**_is adorable, you know? That... That's just awkward, _she laughed (laughing at the absurdity of everything, at the chance she was taking).

_Oh look, there's some forget-me-nots, _he noted, ignoring her jab at him, kneeling at a patch of blue.

_What do they mean? Never to forget you? _The girl stroked the blue petals gently. (Petals falling, he loves me, he loves me not. Forget me, forget me not, my love.)

_Forget-me-nots symbolize _**_memory_**_ and _**_true love_ **_in the flower language, _the boy replied off-handedly.

As he went on about the flowers and their meanings on the rooftop, the girl drifted off into a daydream (dreams, dreams of laughter), until she heard him asking her, _Do you like it?_

_Hmm? _she tilted her head, and studied the maze of colors that moved accordingly to the light breezes, _It's really pretty up here. It doesn't seem real to me, it almost looks like a scene from a fairy tale. _(The flowers were pretty, and unreal, just like the boy. Was he a really a child of god, like they all said?)

_Anyways, we should go back. I need to finish that English essay, _the girl sighed, and made a face.

_It's not due until next week. I'll help you with it, _he smiled (the famous smile that made girls swoon and sigh, the smile that looked so **fake** to the girl) charmingly.

_I don't know if I should feel nervous about you helping me, or thankful that you've offered your assistance, _she laughed (laughed at the absurdity of it all, forget this all, forget this).

_How about feeling thankful? I'm not scary-unlike a certain friend of mine... _he smiled at the thought.

_Really now? You don't think you're scary? _she asked, disbelieving.

_How am I scary? Does my face look _**_that _**_bad? _The boy pouted.

_You clearly don't check the mirror while playing tennis. Your face looks so different. Intense, and judging by the looks on your teammates, I think they consider your face scary, _she rolled her eyes at him. _You really are oblivious aren't you?_

_I guess I am, when it comes to certain things. I'm glad you care enough about me to describe my face to me though! _he smirked.

_Only to save your teammates from their dooms if _**_they_**_ were the ones to tell you, _she deadpanned.

_Still sweet of you, even though you're worrying about others instead of me, _his eyes glimmered with silent laughter.

_You're an oblivious optimistic. I hope you know that, _she grumbled.

_I do now. You realize, we're seriously off topic here? _the boy noted, his eyes dancing with mischief.

_Off topic? We had a topic? _she asked.

_Everything has a topic, but we don't always know what it is,_ he replied, his eyes becoming serious again.

_Why so serious? I like you better when you're smiling. Being serious doesn't really suit you, _she murmured.

(What was it like to hear him laugh, if his smile was so captivating and **beautiful**? Would it sparkle like his smile?)

_I've never heard you laugh for real before, _she mused.

_Laugh for real? What do you mean by that? _the boy asked.

_Like, when you're happy? _she looked at the boy, her eyes questioning. (Questioning him, did he really think he was fooling everyone?)

_I am happy, thank you, _the boy insisted, his smile thinning. His eyes (secret, secret eyes, guarded with walls), warned her away.

_Never mind. Just-just ignore what I told you, _she muttered, _it was just a stupid, errant, thought. Never mind. _(Forget me, forget me not, my love.)

The girl turned away, ready to leave (ready to leave the hand that was offered to her).

_Hey, hey. Don't leave, _the boy reached for the girl's sleeve (reaching for her, reaching, reaching, like he was trying to catch a dragonfly).

_Hmm? _the girl turned around, her face smooth, void of any emotion.

_Why don't you make me laugh then? _he challenged, his hand on her sleeve.

_A game to make you laugh... _The girl paused, thinking. _Well, what do you like? _

_I like tennis, _he replied, without thinking.

The girl's facial expression was priceless, her exasperation showing in her eyes, and the boy **laughed**.

_Out of all the answers, you say _**_tennis_**_? Well, I'm not too surprised, _she sighed (sighed with disappointment, at the offhand answer) while the boy continued to laugh.

He laughed, (an infectious laughter that rang in her ears, a sound that proved the boy **human**) and laughed as tears ran down his face, until the girl began to smile.

_You win, _the boy smiled, catching his breath, hiccuping. He reached (reaching, reaching) forward hesitantly, cupping the girl's face.

_I win, _she replied (replied, replied in a voice that sounded equally unsure as he had sounded), leaning forward to brush the boy's lips for a fraction of a second. A kiss (a butterfly kiss, a kiss so fleeting) that felt like the wings of a butterfly brushing past their flower, leaving in search of a new flower.

The lingering kiss stayed on the girl's lips, as she left the boy on the rooftop alone (alone, to stare at her retreating form).

(Forget me, forget me not, my love.)


End file.
